" groaned Lyddy.

"But, anyhow," 'Phemie pursued, wiping her eyes, her flurry of tears
quickly over, as was her nature, "there is one good thing."

"What is that?"

"He doesn't lose hope himself. And _we_ mustn't lose it, either. Of course
things will come out right--even the boarders will come."

"We don't know that," said Lyddy, shaking her head again.

"How about the woman who wrote you a second time?" queried 'Phemie. "Mrs.
Castle. I bet _she_ comes next week."

And 'Phemie was right in _that_ prophecy. They had Lucas meet the train
for Mrs. Castle on Saturday, and 'Phemie went with him. There were
supplies to buy for the house and the young girl made her purchases
before train time.

A little old lady in a Paisley shawl and black, close bonnet, got out of
the train. The porter lifted down an ancient carpet-bag--something 'Phemie
had never in her life seen before. Even Lucas was amazed by the little old
woman's outfit.

"By cracky!" he whispered to 'Phemie. "You reckon _that's_ the party? Why,
she's dressed more behind the times than my grandmother useter be. Guess
there must be places on this airth more countrified than Bridleburg."

But 'Phemie knew that Mrs. Castle's letter had come from an address in
Easthampton which the Brays knew to be in a very good neighborhood. Nobody
but wealthy people lived on that street. Yet Mrs. Castle--aside from
the valuable but old-fashioned shawl--did not look to be worth any great
fortune.

"Are you the girl who wrote to me?" asked the old lady, briskly, when
'Phemie came forward to take the carpet-bag.

Mrs. Castle's voice was very resonant; she had sharp blue eyes behind
her gold-bowed spectacles; and she clipped her words and sentences in
a manner that belied her age and appearance.

"No, ma'am," said 'Phemie, doubtfully. "It was my sister who wrote. _I_
am Euphemia Bray."

"Ha! And what is your sister's name? What does the 'L' stand for?"

"Lydia."

"Good!" ejaculated this strange old lady. "Then I'll ride out to the
farm with you. Such good, old-fashioned names promise just what your
sister said: An old-fashioned house and old-time ways. If 'L!' had meant
'Lillie,' or 'Luella,' or 'Lilas'--and if _you_, young lady, had been
called 'Marie'--I'd have taken the very next train back to town."

'Phemie could only stare and nod. In her secret thoughts she told herself
that this queer old woman was doubtless a harmless lunatic. She did not
know whether it was qu